Thing!
by oldmule
Summary: Ruth has trouble with her luggage! Hopefully less tedious than it sounds. It involves Harry, misunderstandings, and fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**This did once happen to me, so it may not be as barmy as it sounds!**

* * *

><p>"Thing!"<p>

An exasperated Ruth raged at the wheel of her bag, as it finally gave up the ghost and hung limply in defeat. She dragged it on but it was no use. It was like pulling a dead weight, a dead weight that was determined to go nowhere.

She picked the bag up and her shoulder socket screamed its objection.

She wondered, not for the first time, quite why she had packed so much for only five days away. Maybe she hadn't really needed to bring The Complete Euripides.

Knowing she wasn't going to get very far like this she put the bag down once more and this time placed the long strap over her shoulder and hoisted the bag up and onto her hip. Her shoulder complained but she was on the move and the train would not wait for much longer and so she walked on towards the station.

Harry hoped that Ruth would hurry up and get back. She had been away too long. It was always too long.

She had said that she was visiting a friend from university. As far as he remembered she'd never visited them before. She'd never even mentioned them before.

But he had no reason to doubt her. And yet there was something in her going away that bothered him.

It was late as she finally clambered off the train only to be greeted by the most unwelcome sign informing her that the tube was closed due to necessary repairs. She staggered up the escalator, her shoulder screaming and the strap biting into her neck.

There was no easy bus route from here. She'd get a cab. As she emerged towards the light and felt the fresh air she also felt the rain and knew that cabs would be few and far between. She was right.

An hour and a quarter later, drenched and exhausted she opened her front door and off loaded the bag.

A hot bath, that was what she needed, a bath from which she may ever get out.

An hour and a half after that she was still lying in that bath, a glass of red wine nestled in her hands.

Harry stood looking out of his window willing away the night. She was back tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Ruth climbed out of bed the following morning. Back to work. She was glad of it. It had been good to see Elizabeth but she missed the Grid more than she had expected. That was a lie. She knew that she had missed Harry more than she had expected. She had spent quite a bit of her private time wondering what it would have been like to go visiting Elizabeth with him. As a couple. She was being foolish she thought, like a teenager.<p>

Almost late she took a quick glance in the mirror before turning for the door.

She turned back, her mouth aghast in horror, her eyes fixed.

He looked at his watch hoping that she would be in early as she always was for then he would see her before his meeting with the HS. She was cutting it fine.

Ruth was still stood before the mirror. Her eyes had not moved from the dark purple bruise that stained her neck, between her shoulder and collar bone.

The bag strap had spent hours digging into her skin. She had clenched her teeth and tried to ignore the discomfort. Now she wished she hadn't.

No one would believe her.

She was going to have to spend the day explaining to those that would listen, that no, she hadn't had a rampant, sex fuelled week away and no, it was most definitely not a love bite.

And what of those who just saw it, to whom she wouldn't have chance to explain, what of them as they passed, laughing and sniggering and talking about her?

She marched away grabbing the offending, now empty bag which she stuffed into the dustbin, muttering furiously.

And then she returned to the mirror.

A scarf, she needed to find a scarf.

And Harry. She needed to avoid Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

**It seems I'm not the only one that has encountered this problem! Small update.**

* * *

><p>Ruth walked through the pods, a black chiffon scarf with small black sequins tied around her neck, a blouse with a high collar sheltering it.<p>

She didn't usually wear things like that. Harry noticed and thought it was something to do with her week away. That and perhaps the flushed tinge to her cheeks. His feeling of uneasiness grew.

He watched from his office as she crossed to her desk greeting Dimitri and Tariq as she went, smiling but looking much like she didn't want to say too much. Her hand often hovering around her neck and scarf. It had been bought for her by a relative several Christmases ago and though it was very tasteful it had remained in the bottom draw unused. She wasn't really a scarf sort of person.

Harry fought the urge to burst straight from his office. He fought the urge to tell her he'd missed her. He fought the urge to just be nearer to her.

Ruth knew exactly where he was and she had no urge whatsoever to get any closer to him than she was right now. It was a strange feeling. Usually she often felt magnetised towards him, north and south pulling together, moved by some unseen force.

"Ruth," he called, his head sticking round the door, his head beckoning her.

"Can't do without you," joked Dimitri, though they both knew there was more truth than joke to the statement.

Ruth smiled in patient manner.

"Don't even get chance to take my coat off," she said, not even attempting to remove it but rather glad there was another layer between Harry and her neck.

"Hi," she said as she walked through the door.

"Hi," he hesitated, "you look well."

She merely nodded .

"I have to go to a meeting with the HS, would you read these and lead the morning briefing?"

"Of course," she said taking the files from him.

"I'm sorry, Ruth, I haven't even given you time to take your coat off."

'That's okay."

"No, here let me…" and his hands reached up to her shoulders to help take the coat. But Ruth pulled it to her, stepping away from him.

"No really, it's okay. I'm a little cold actually."

"Right," he felt foolish for offering, "let's hope you're not coming down with something."

"I'm fine, Harry."

He didn't want her to go but knew she wanted to.

"Nice scarf, did you get it while you were away?."

"This old thing?" she said, "No, I've had it years."

He could think of nothing more to say, so he smiled wondering if she had any idea just how much he had missed her.

She turned to the door.

And it was then that he saw it.

The small sale tag, which though it did not show the price, clearly indicated that the scarf had not been worn before.

And that she had lied.

He perched on the desk for a moment and then turned and left.


	3. Chapter 3

It was warm on the Grid and Ruth felt like she would love to rip the scarf from her neck, it was irritating her. The sequins were scratchy and there was something else digging in the back of her neck.

She went to the ladies and certain that no one was following she took off the scarf. She discovered what was particularly irritating. A sales label sticking out at the back, the plastic tag had been catching her skin. She tore in off with her teeth. And that's when she realised the possibility that Harry may have seen it.

After she had specifically told him it wasn't new.

What would he think?

She sighed. At least he hadn't seen her neck.

He returned quiet and withdrawn. Tariq and Dimitri presumed his meeting had not gone well. They were wrong, his meeting had been fine. What wasn't fine was Ruth. She had lied. She was different. There was something she didn't want him to know. He could tell.

"Harry, these need signing."

She stood and looked at him, his eyes remained fixed on his desk.

He signed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine, Ruth. I'm fine."

She nodded, even though he was not looking. She fidgeted with the scarf at her neck.

She knew there was something wrong.

They both knew each too well.

"Harry, I'm sorry."

He looked up.

"For what?"

"I lied."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not technically," she muttered.

He waited.

"The scarf. It is new… well new as in not worn, but it's actually quite old, in fact I haven't worn it before. It's just that I found it and thought I would wear it, you know, for a change."

He looked at her.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"I think you look lovely in it," he said suddenly.

"Thank you," was all she managed.

He handed her the folder and she took it. For the first time since she had returned he felt his worries ease. He wanted to tell her that he had missed her but the space she had been inhabiting was empty as the door slid closed behind her.

* * *

><p>It was lunchtime and Ruth sat by the river, a sandwich in hand. The breeze was cold and she pulled her coat tighter.<p>

A warm voice sounded behind her.

"May I join you?"

She glanced around.

"I come bearing gifts," he offered, proffering a cup.

"Peppermint…?"

She smiled and he sat.

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup, her fingers catching his for the tiniest of moments.

'My pleasure, Ruth."

The wind blew her hair across her face and she flicked it away.

They sat for a while both looking at the river.

"I take it things were quiet whilst I was away?" she asked eventually.

"Interminably."

"No disasters, no threats?"

"Not a one."

"How on earth did you manage to fill your time?" she asked smiling.

"I thought about all that I was missing," he answered turning from the river to her, a warm and loving look in his eye. He thought about hiding it. He didn't want to hide it anymore.

Ruth felt the heat rise to her face and she glanced back to her sandwich, her fingers fumbling with the wrapping until it fell from her knee.

They both instinctively reached down to retrieve it. Their hands brushed. Their heads dipped close. They both felt the other's nearness, felt it and felt the thrill of it. Slowly, very slowly they bent back up, facing each other, heads still close. He wanted to kiss her so very much. She wanted him to kiss her so very much….

His face froze.

She felt the cold breeze whistle around her throat as she realised with horror that the scarf was undone. And so was she.

The hurt on his face was palpable. The disappointment. The pain. The betrayal.

His hand found hers and handed her the wrapping and then with great dignity he turned and was gone.

"Harry," she called.

There was no opportunity for explanations.


	4. Chapter 4

The image burnt into his brain, searing a sizeable scar within both head and heart.

She had gone away, visiting 'a friend'. She had come back flushed, dressing differently and now he knew why. Dressing to hide the mark he, whoever 'he' was, had left upon her. The reason for her flushed cheeks.

My god the last time he remembered seeing a love bite on show to the world was on a bloody teenager! But Ruth. Ruth!

And all the time he had loved her, loved her and respected her and mostly stood back from her, giving her time. Now it seemed she no longer needed time and she certainly didn't need him. Any place he thought he had in her life, was gone, if he had ever had it in the first place.

She sat by the river, the scarf in her hand. She refused to be ashamed. It was just the bag. Just the bloody bag.

Why didn't he give her the chance to explain? Stupid man. Stupid, hurt, unhappy man.

And it was all her fault.

She walked through the pods her eyes drawn at once to his office. It was empty.

"Did Harry find you?" asked Dimitri as she passed him.

"Yes. Has he been back?" she said.

He shook his head, amused, "you two need trackers on each…" he tailed off, eyes wide.

"Have you got a problem, Dimitri?"

"No, no problem," he said, eyes fixed on her bare neck.

She glared at him until his gaze lifted.

"It was the strap of a very heavy bag. Nothing more."

"Yeah, right," he was grinning.

"It was."

"Hey, Tariq, come here."

Tariq crossed over as Ruth sat at her desk trying valiantly to ignore both them and the indignity.

"What?" asked Tariq.

Dimitri pointed.

Tariq's mouth fell open in shock, "Harry did that?"

"No!" shouted Ruth.

"It was a bag," whispered Dimitri secretively.

'A bag?" Tariq was failing to understand.

"I know it sounds wrong but…" Ruth was trying.

"Oh come on, Evershed, admit it, you go away for the week and come back with that hidden under a scarf. Must have been a good trip away!"

"It wasn't like that!" Ruth was getting more exasperated.

"Has Harry seen it?" asked Tariq, thinking that the afternoon might get very fraught indeed.

Ruth's head hung and the silence told them everything.

Suddenly it seemed much less amusing.

"Have you told him what really happened?" asked Tariq.

"And you think he'll believe me any more than you have?"

"We believe you, Ruth," said Tariq gently, "don't we?"

"Erm….of course," Dimitri was less than convincing, "though the fact you tried to hide it is a little suspicious."

Ruth sprang to her feet, "Because I thought you'd react exactly the way you have!"

They all stood silently until the sound of the pod doors alerted them to the fact that they were no longer alone.

Harry walked to his office.


	5. Chapter 5

Ruth took a deep breath and marched into Harry's office.

But having got there any determination she felt merely slipped away.

"Is it important, Ruth? I'm rather busy."

She hesitated, "no….well… yes. Yes, it is actually."

He glanced up.

She said nothing more. He sighed and looked away again.

"I need to explain," she muttered.

"No, you don't, you don't need to explain anything, not to me anyway."

Oh, he was annoying her now.

"You're just playing the bloody martyr," she spluttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Stop being so damned noble. If you feel angry, be angry. But don't do that thing you do….that 'I don't really matter' thing."

"What?" he said angrily, standing up, " you want to know how I feel? Really Ruth? Well, there's a first!"

He crossed around his desk, closing the door, standing in front of her now.

"You want to know how I feel about that!" His eyes stabbed at her neck, "do you, Ruth?"

She nodded, little knowing what else to do under this barrage of emotion from him.

"I feel sick to the stomach. I feel like I have a knife in my back. I feel hurt and angry and betrayed. And the biggest joke of all is that it really does have nothing to do with me and I have no right to feel like this. I have no right to want to kill the man that is responsible for that! That's how I feel Ruth! Are you satisfied now?"

He turned away.

A moment passed.

"Is there anything Harry, anything I can say that will make you feel less angry, less hurt?"

"I doubt it," he muttered, still facing the window. He noticed Tariq and Dimitri pretending not to be paying any attention to the raised voices from within.

"But like I say, it's nothing to do with me."

"You're doing it again!"

He turned surprised by the anger now heard in her voice.

"What?"

"It has something to do with you. Clearly it does, otherwise you wouldn't be behaving like this and I wouldn't have spent the morning worrying about what you would think if you saw it. Well, now I know. Now I know very well how you feel. You couldn't have made it much plainer!"

"No and neither could you, Ruth, neither could you!" He looked again at the bruise on her neck. "If you wanted to find a way of telling me that you'd met someone you could have done something a little less adolescent!"

"What?"

"You heard me. My god, I think I'm adult enough to be told. I mean just fill in the form and tell me who he is."

"Do you honestly think I'd tell you when you are behaving like this? When you've threatened to kill someone?"

"Well, if it's going to continue, then yes, you'll have to tell me."

"And if it's not going to continue?"

"What a one night stand?"

"If that's what you want to think, Harry, yes."

He looked at her, he didn't know what was worse, someone she cared about, or some single fling, neither of whom were him.

He crossed to the side of his desk and leaned against it, wearily.

"Bring me a form and I'll sign it."

"What?"

"Bring me the application and I'll approve it Ruth. If he makes you happy then that's fine.' He sounded defeated.

"Look at me Harry."

He refused.

"Harry, look at me," she demanded.

He looked.

She stepped closer to him, pulling at the collar of her blouse, opening it up to show him the bruise in its full glory.

"This. This is not what you think."

"Clearly," he said scornfully and turned his head away.

She reached out and took his hand and lifted it to her shoulder and laid his hand over her neck, over the bruise.

He tried to pull away, away from where 'he' had been, but the softness of her skin held him, tantalised him.

"I went to see my friend Elizabeth. I came home. My bag broke, well, the wheel broke and I had to carry it and the tube wasn't working and there were no buses and it was raining and so that meant that there were no taxis and the bag was on my shoulder and it was full of books, Aeschylus and Sophocles and Aristophanes and I really should have left The Complete Euripides at home but it was just so tempting to take it on the train and anyway the bag was heavy and when I got home I didn't know but then this morning I saw this and I knew that everyone would jump to conclusions and you, you would think…well…what you think …but it's not true Harry. It was the bag, a thing, not a person, not a man…nor a woman… just a thing."

And then she breathed.

Harry looked at her, a smile slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I think you'll find that The Complete Euripedes will do it every time, Ruth."

"I know."

She had not moved his hand away. His thumb slowly and gently brushed over her skin.

A silence descended over the two of them.

Tariq and Dimitri were both standing, peering into the office but fortunately no one was looking back at them.

"If he'd been a 'he', instead of a thing… you would have wanted to kill him?" she said quietly.

"Yes," he said, his eyes drifting to his hand upon her neck, "I'm sorry Ruth."

"Don't be."

They were oblivious to everything as they stood so close, touching, gazing, needing.

"Harry." It was Dimitri at the door.

"What!" snapped Harry, his hand finally falling from Ruth's shoulder.

"I'm sorry but…."

"Yes aren't we all," muttered Harry.

"It's the DG, he wants to see you right away, says its vital."

Harry nodded at the repentant Dimitri as he disappeared and then his eyes turned back to Ruth.

Neither spoke, there was too much to say.

He turned to the door, reluctantly.

"Harry," she called.

"You could still sign the form."

He looked back confused.

"You know, to give permission to socialize," she smiled shyly.

He understood.

She sat at her desk and smiled despite Dimitri and Tariq, who danced around her field of vision liking grinning apparitions. And she waited. She waited for him to come back. But he never did.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay don't worry, another chapter to come and it's pretty well angst free.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

It was ten o'clock when Ruth turned the light off on her desk. As the day had progressed the excitement and expectation that she'd felt had gradually ebbed away. Why had he not come back? He had not even left her a message or called in to the Grid. Had she pushed it too far? Had that last comment been too much? Should she not have mentioned the permission to socialize? The questions turned over and over in her mind but there were no answers. None.

She reached home, scarf retied around her neck, collar turned up against the breeze.

She made herself a cup of tea and then poured it away realising she needed something stronger. A large glass of Chablis in hand, she finally sat down.

It had felt so good, his hand upon her neck, his eyes burning into hers, the proximity of him, the smell of him.

But he had not come back.

She picked up her phone, not for the first time and then put it back down again, as she did it rang.

Harry.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hi," his voice flowed through her.

"You've had a busy day," she ventured.

"You have no idea. I'm sorry Ruth."

"It's okay."

He hesitated.

"Ruth, are you at home?"

"Yes, I've just got in, actually."

"Is it too late?"

"For what?"

"A visitor."

She got up and looked towards the front door. There was a silhouette there.

She opened the door.

"Hi," he said with a seductive smile.

"Hi," she said the phone still to her ear. She smiled and ended the call. "Drink?" she asked, already on the move to the kitchen.

He didn't move straight away. "Yes, thanks," he called after her.

She heard the door close and after pouring him a glass of wine she returned to the living room to find him standing there with a suitcase in hand.

They looked at each other.

"Planning on staying a while?" asked Ruth eventually, with a small smile.

Harry laughed, "no, don't worry."

"I wasn't," she said and blushed.

His smile was warm and tender and well aware of the embarrassment she was now flooded with.

"I thought it sounded like you needed a new bag," he said, putting it down and whizzing it round. "It's got those wheels that go in all directions, so it's easier to pull."

"Harry, you shouldn't have," she smiled.

"No but I wanted to. Let's face it, we don't want a combination of Euripides and a broken bag causing any more …bruising, do we?'

"That's true. I most definitely don't want that again," she said finally handing him the wine, her other hand hovering around her neck.

"There's something else in there, as well," he said as he perched on the sofa and took a drink.

She was surprised and a little thrilled that he had done all this for her.

"Open it," he smiled as she stood dithering.

She knelt on the rug and began to pull back the zips. Lying inside was a black tablet. She turned it over. It was an electronic book reader. She looked up at him with surprise.

"I know it's not the same as having the physicality of the book in your hands but I thought for when you were travelling it would come in handy."

"Thank you," she said genuinely touched at his thoughtfulness.

"I've had the classics put on there, the Greeks and a mix of poetry, Middle Eastern, French and English."

My god, she thought. And then he smiled that smile again and she was lost.

"There's two more things," he said quietly, hopefully.

"Harry, you've really done too much."

"No, Ruth, I really haven't. I've possibly only done what I should have done well before now."

He leaned forward on the sofa willing her to continue her search, willing her face to continue looking as pleased and happy as it did right now.

She didn't want to look in the case. She wanted to keep looking at him.

"Please," he said when she failed to move.

She tore her eyes away, back to the now seemingly empty case. There were two pockets within it. She reached into the first.

An envelope, she opened it to find a single sheet of paper.

It was signed by the DG.

'I thought I'd grab him while the opportunity arose," said Harry quietly, watching, studying her reaction.

Her face remained serious. This was real and for a moment she was, as always, afraid of what might be.

In her hand was the permission to socialize form. Submitted by Harry Pearce. Authorised by the DG. The only other name on there was hers.

"Please say something, Ruth," he begged.

Her eyes never left the paper.

"Can we do this, Harry?"

"Yes, we can."

"Are you sure? After everything we've been through?"

He slipped to the floor, on his knees before her. His hand reached out and took hers.

"Ruth, we can do this _because_ of everything we've been through. Now please don't make me stay down here too long or my knee will lock up."

She looked up at him finally and smiled.

"Maybe I have you where I want you."

"Submissive? Is that the way?"

"Possibly," she smirked.

"Well, whatever you want, is fine by me." he gazed lovingly at her.

"So where's this other surprise?" she asked, distracted by him and frightened by the sheer intensity of his feeling and her reaction to it.

"It's probably best to leave it to later," he said closing the top of the case. He was worried that it was all too much. That he was making the same mistake as before. Of going too fast. Of pushing her.

"No. It's my surprise and I want it now," she said childishly.

Two could play at that game.

"Ruth, come here and socialize with me now," he demanded.

"Make me," she got up, quickly dragging the case with her.

Harry was left on his knees. He tried to get up but as predicted his knee had locked. He groaned as he struggled to his feet.

Ruth was smiling.

"I guess that's why you didn't go down on one knee in the churchyard," she said and she flushed red.

"Very funny. Now come here."

"No," she was perched on the opposite side of the room, peering into the case, her hand roaming through the remaining pocket.

"A-ha!" she said and began to open the second envelope she had found there.

"Ruth, you don't have to, it was just an idea, you can say no…"

"I'll decide whether I say yes or no to….."

She stopped.

There were two airline tickets in her hand to Paris and the brochure for the most beautiful hotel she thought she had ever seen.

"Harry…" she said gazing up at him.

"Well, I thought it would be a shame not to christen the case."

She said nothing.

"And we've got permission," he added desperately.

Still nothing.

"Should I have booked New York? I should, shouldn't I? I still can. Or I'll just cancel it if it's all too much. I'm sorry Ruth, I think I just carried away."

And he stood up.

"I best go."

"No. It's perfect," she shouted.

They were both shocked by the certainty and volume of her outburst.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"And it's okay that it's for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Too soon?"

"Soon. Yes. Could you give me no warning?"

He shrugged.

"Ah, I see what you're doing.," she pronounced, another mystery solved.

"I'm not doing anything?"

"You're making sure that I don't have time to change my mind. That you'll whisk me away before anything is said, or before I have chance to think."

"Well, sometimes you have to just do, and not prevaricate."

"That's rich coming from either of us," she said.

She had a point.

"But will you come, Ruth?"

He waited, breath held, fingers crossed, heart hoping.

"Be a shame not to test out my new case" she smiled at last, "and my new ebooks."

"I don't think you'll have time for reading, Ruth," he threatened in a husky tone.

He was stood in her living room, the implications of his words hanging in the air.

She was sat before the case.

His hand was held out. She took it willingly.

He pulled her to her feet and suddenly they were so close. They stood millimetres apart. Slowly her hands found themselves pulled towards him, found themselves sliding up his back. Slowly his hands were drawn towards her, magnetised towards her waist.

Pulling her closer.

Like north and south, until their bodies were touching, pressing together.

"Kiss me, Ruth. DG's orders," he whispered.

"I don't care what the DG says."

"You'll get decommissioned."

"I don't care."

"What _do_ you care about, Ruth?"

"What _you_ want, not the DG."

"Then kiss me."

"Is that what you want, Harry?"

"It's what I've always wanted."

And he leant in ever closer.

She backed away, as much as the magnetic force would let her.

"What's it worth?' she teased.

"A bag, a book and a trip to Paris."

She pondered.

"And me, if you'll have me."

She stopped pondering.

"Yes, Harry. I'll have you."

The kiss was years in the making, years in the imagining, years in the desiring. And it was worth every single moment of the wait.

* * *

><p><strong>There's an epilogue in there somewhere I think if you fancy?<strong>


	7. Epilogue

**Thanks for all the reviews again. Here's the end.**

* * *

><p><span>Epilogue<span>

Dimitri smiled as Ruth and Harry exited from the same pod.

They looked relaxed, they looked happy.

They had both had the same three days off.

Factually that was all the rest of the grid knew.

Theoretically more was immediately obvious.

"Nice top, Evershed," called Dimitri, "get it while you were away?"

"Yes, thank you, Dimitri."

"Different for you though," he added.

"Nothing wrong with a change," she smiled.

"Indeed not," he said, "what do you think Harry?"

"I think it's very becoming," he said casually as he crossed to his office.

Ruth looked content.

"I never imagined you in a polo neck before," said Dimitri with a gleam in his eye.

"Well, now you can, " she said.

"Bit warm, though," he pressed.

"I feel just fine Dimitri," she leaned into him, "now give it a rest."

He grinned, sat down and shut up.

Ruth picked up a file and found herself heading towards Harry's office. She had been away from him for all of a minute but it felt like an eternity.

He smiled as she came in and immediately headed towards her, pressing her against the door where he knew he couldn't be seen.

"Are you hot Ruth?" he breathed in her ear.

"No."

"How about now?" his tongue began to run around her ear.

"Yes," she breathed, "definitely hot now."

"You could take that polo neck off," his breath panted in her ear.

"I could," she gasped.

"But that might give a few things away," he teased.

"Yes, it might. The question is who's the adolescent now, Harry?"

"I am, Ruth. I am."

And he kissed her again like he had just discovered the joy of it.

Which he truly had.


End file.
